Some father and son time
by someguy3657
Summary: What happens when you find out that a nemesis of yours is dating your mother? TF2 fanfic, no shipping.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey everyone. Since I'm a huge fan of TF2, I decided to make this little fanfiction that I will work on from time to time. If you're looking for shipping, look somewhere else._

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The Scout sighed in an annoyed fashion as he put away his gear after another hard day of work. Yet another terrible loss for the BLU team. He walked from the changing rooms, sending a few waves at his other teammates before walking along a long corridor of the BLU headquarters and entering the teleporter room, unable to hear himself think with the sound of all of these machines whirring. All of the teleporters were placed in neat rows, on both sides of the hallway, each with a sign stating the location it would bring you to. The Scout was amazed that TF industries had managed to get their reach and their machines to pretty much everywhere on Earth. This group of teleporters went towards different parts in Australia, these ones towards Russia, these other ones towards some parts in Asia, these others in Europe...finally, the Scout found his teleporter, placed amongst the other teleporters placed at different parts of his nation. A sign above it read "Downtown Boston, Massachusetts, USA".

A minute later, the young adult slowly climbed out of an old, abandoned factory in the working part of Brooklyn. Taking his earphones out and placing them over his ears, he began listening to some of his favourite rap artists while he waited for the bus with a bunch of nobodies, who had also finished working their menial jobs for the day. But even listening to the beats he loved so much couldn't get him in a better mood.

One last push. That was all that it would've taken for the BLU team to have finally broken their losing streak. One last push, and the cart would've fell into that stupid hole, blowing everything up in a cloud of smoke. But nooo, luck couldn't be on their side for once.

"If it hadn't been for that freakin' spy..." The Scout mumbled to himself as he boarded the crowded, smelly bus.

When the Scout had noticed that there was only a few REDs near the cart at the start of the round, he had thought that they had chickened out, and that this would be easy. But as the entire BLU team pushed the cart around the last turn before the final terminus, he realized that they weren't at the beginning because they had been building a powerful defence near the end. A sentry nest in a hard to reach area, a Demoman laying down stickies all over the track, two Soldiers, a Heavy with a Medic always by his side, a Pyro with a Backburner flanking them from behind...it was a complete and total bloodbath. The Scout had long lost the number of times the Respawn Machine had to bring him back to life and in one piece. Their entire team were only able to push the cart a few inches along before getting gibbed, shot or roasted. Over the course of 10 minutes, they had only managed to move the cart a few feet, and there was still a good amount of distance left before the explosion could take place.

During the last minute of the round, something beautiful happened: a perfect, swift attack. The BLU Medic had deployed an ubercharge on their Soldier, and they had finally managed to take down that pesky sentry. 45 seconds left. With it out of the way, they and the rest of the BLU team had tackled onto the Demo and the Heavy/Medic combo, killing all three before they could do any big damage. 30 seconds. The RED Soldiers and the Pyro come and try to attack. They kill a good amount of BLUs before getting killed themselves. 15 seconds. The Scout sees his chance. The bomb is right there, a few feet from the hole. While everyone is busy shooting each other and dying left and right, he rushes towards it, dodging projectiles coming from all directions. 10 seconds left. He reached the cart and began to push. 9. Just a bit more and they would win, just a bit more. 8. He was a foot away from the hole and about to push it in. He could already hear the cheers of the rest of his team, telling him how great he had been.

But, just as he was about to give the great, final push, he felt cold, solid steel dig into his back. The damage had came so quick, so unexpected, that the Scout couldn't have helped but to stop pushing. He let out a scream of pain as he fell to the ground, catching the red suit of the Spy who had just backstabbed him, his knife still bloody. The Administrator's voice counted down from 5 as the Frenchman grinned, tossing a half smoked cigarette onto the boy's face as he spoke loudly. "So! Your deadly skill is jogging? Mine is murdering people."

By the time the Bostan kid had respawned, he heard the Administator loudly shout "YOU FAILED!". As usual, the BLUs had received their punishment for losing: the weapons provided by Mann Co had completely deactivated themselves, making the entire BLU team defenceless. And, as usual, the RED team's weapons had gained kritz, and you could hear their laughter coming from miles around as they mercilessly hunted every member of the BLUs, executing them all. To this day, the Scout had no idea how the weapons deactivated themselves. Even the melee weapons seemed to have become nothing more than harmless toys.

What the Scout had been expecting to be wonderful cheers of admiration at the day's end became bitter remarks and insults. All thanks to one Spy. Normally, the Scout could've and would've easily replied to many of the things said to him, but he was getting a headache and just wanted to get home. He wouldn't be able to do that without going in the changing room, though, so he had to endure the comments.

"YOU MAGGOT! YOU USELESS LITTLE SHIT! YOU ARE A DISGRACE TO THE ENTIRE TEAM!" screamed the Soldier, who had to literally be held back by the Engineer and the Sniper to stop him from beating the Scout down with his shovel in a fit of rage.

"You are ze fastest member on our team! How did you let that Spy backstab you, you dummkopf?!" asked the Medic with a frown.

Surprisingly, the Heavy seemed to be the one who was the least angry about this loss. "You were leetle man today, but next time, you must be big man and keep pushing cart, even when coward stabs you!" said the big Russian with a smile and a very hard slap on the Scout's back, at the exact same place where he was backstabbed.

The Scout got off of the bus. It wasn't his stop, but he didn't care. He preferred to walk than to stay another minute in that God forsaken thing. He had always hated public transportations, but they were the cheapest way to get home without wasting an hour on foot. The only time in his life that he actually did like the bus was years ago, when him and his 7 older brothers would spend their lazy summer days playing a new game they made up: they would go on big, crowded buses or metros and, taking turns, they would be as loud and as obnoxious as possible. You get 1 point for every passenger who walks away from you, and 5 points if you manage to make them leave the bus or go into another metro cart. They stopped playing that game for two reasons: the first, because the drivers were starting to recognize them and refuse them entry into their vehicles, and the other, because everyone agreed that it was impossible to beat Jimmy's score, which was 130 points. After the newspapers had informed the citizens of Boston about bombings in public transportations, people became nervous of riding. Nonetheless, the 8 brothers has managed to find a full bus. All Jimmy had to do was, as soon as the bus arrived at a stop, to loudly yell "THERE'S A BOMB IN HERE!", and 26 people, including the driver himself, nearly trampled over each other as they bolted towards the exit, leaving the 8 brothers in there, laughing their asses off. Their ma didn't find it as funny. Neither did the police.

The Scout kept walking down a few streets in silence, his rap music blasting loudly into his ears. He was the youngest son, and, even at 23 years old, he still lived with his dear ma. Every single one of his older brothers had left the house. The Scout kept promising his mother that he'd find a good girl soon, and settle down and get married and all, but so far, he didn't have any luck.

Finally, he reached the nice little house. Him and his brothers had saved up their money to buy this house for their ma. It wasn't very different from every other house in this residential area, but it was so much better than the apartment in the slums that they used to live in. A nice little yard in the front and the back, and a solid brown roof for a beige coloured house. The Scout slowly walked up the small path leading to the door and came in.

"I'm home, ma!" he called out as soon as he walked in. His mom was in the living room, on his left. The dinner table and the kitchen were on the right, and a small stairway leading upstairs, along with a hallway leading to the back of the house, were in front of him. His mother smiled at him.

"Oh, Nathan, honey, you're just in time! I have someone I'd like you to meet." Nathan rolled his eyes. He was called "Scout" so often during work that his real name seemed odd. And who was this person he'd have to meet? Probably some blind date set up by his ma so he can finally start going out.

But, when he stepped into the living room, he suddenly wished it could've been a date.

On the couch, there he sat. That red leather ski mask. That repulsive cigarette on his lips. His red suit, opened up in a more casual fashion. His black gloves and matching black shoes. He sat there, his lips curling up into a smile as he stared at the boy he backstabbed a few hours ago.

The Spy. The RED Spy. In Nathan's house.

"Nathan, I'd like you to meet Richard." said the happy mother, oblivious to the shocked face his son was giving. Then, she said the words that confirmed Nathan's worst fears. "He's my new boyfriend!"


	2. Chapter 2

_Richard._

The Scout grumbled as he kept cleaning the dishes. He had been excited that morning, when his ma told him she'd make spaghetti with those big, homemade meatballs he loves so much, but because of that Spy at the dinner table, happily talking with his ma and trying to get him into the conversation as well, he could barely remember a bite of what he ate. He could've been eating paste, and he wouldn't even have noticed.

_Richard._

Talk about a stupid name. Sure, he's French, but seriously? _That's_ his name?

_Richard._

The more he repeated that name, the more stupid it sounded.

What was his ma thinking? Going out with that RED bastard...didn't she know better than to go out with the first guy that gives her the cute eyes? She already have had more relationships started and broken than anyone else in this neighbourhood, or even this fucking city. It would always start the same: she introduces her new boyfriend to the rest of the family, they go out for a while, the guy fucks his ma, and then leaves sooner or later with the contents of her wallet while she cries and almost has a nervous breakdown for about a month. And, since his ma was very against abortion or the pills or condoms or anything like that, she usually ended up pregnant. This is how she ended up with 8 sons in a bad neighborhood. In fact, the only link of family Nathan had with most of his brothers was their mother, and nothing else.

This new relationship wasn't going to be different. Especially not with a guy who's entire purpose in life is to gain other people's trust before cruelly stabbing them in the back. The Scout gave him a week. Two days if his ma smartened up.

The sound of a throat being cleared behind him broke Nathan's train of thoughts. He turned around quickly, and there he was again.

_Richard._

Just like every Spy ever, he seemed to have came out of absolutely nowhere. Perhaps he had never noticed it during the heat of the battle, but the frenchman was tall, quite taller than himself. The spy was still wearing his uniform, minus his suit coat, which made him look different, yet still presentable. Even in the comfort of this house, miles away from the battlefield, he was still wearing that fucking mask over his face. Probably 'cause he's ugly as hell, the Scout thought.

"An' whatta you want?" Nathan asked bitterly.

"I've decided to come help you with these dishes, _mon fils._" replied Richard with a grin, while taking off his black gloves and pulling up the sleeves of his shirt. Nathan, who didn't speak a lick of french, didn't understand those last two words, but he knew it was something he didn't like.

"Yeah, well, I don't need no help, 'specially not from you. Your help made me look like a chump today." It also made him lose a few thousand dollars. At his work, you get beautiful bonuses if you win a battle, something the Scout didn't get in a long time.

This response didn't stop Richard from grabbing a nearby dish towel and getting to work next to Nathan. He chuckled a bit as he rolled his eyes.

"Oh, please. Are you still angry over this little matter? Your job was to push the bomb in, and my job was to stop you from completing your job. Clearly, I did a better job than you, as usual. Get over it."

"Get over it?! Why, I oughta-"

"Oh, there you are, boys! What are you two talking about?" said Scout's mom with a smile, as she walked into the kitchen. Nathan almost had a heart attack and answered her question a bit faster than he had wanted.

"W-we were talkin' 'bout...well, we were just gettin' t'know each other, ma!" He was hoping his fake, forced smile wasn't too obvious.

"That's right, Laura. I think me and Nathan are going to be great friends" added Richard with a smile. The Scout had to try very hard to keep his fake smile up. He didn't like to hear the Spy say his mother's name.

"That's great news! I knew you two would get along!" she said, her smile widening as she picked up her pack of cigarettes and left for the front porch.

Richard looked at Nathan's mom as she left, then back at her son. The one thing Nathan has been hiding from his ma for years had been discovered in mere seconds.

"She has no idea who you work for, does she?"

The Scout bit his lower lip. Of course she had no idea. She's so proud that her sons finally managed to find respectable jobs instead of the street life they used to live. "She thinks I work in some construction site downtown." It wasn't a complete lie; he USED to work in a construction site downtown, until he got in a huge fight with a couple of pricks who couldn't see a good worker if it whacked them in the face (and he proved just that) and accidentally wrecked hours of work in the scuffle. He tried to explain that it wasn't his fault if the wooden foundation couldn't handle one guy getting launched into it, but his dumb employers wouldn't want to hear a word of it. He would've had to go home and tell his ma how he got a black eye and a brand new unemployment paper, if it hadn't been for a nerdy chick by the name of Miss Pauling who intercepted him in the street to propose a type of "special demolition work" for "someone of his talents". And with a name like "Builders League United", it had to be a nice, high paying job, right?

"I don't want her t'know a word of it, so keep your freakin' voice down. T'last thing I want her t'know is that I kill chumps like you for a livin'."

"I think we found something that we can both agree on. I told her I work in a government office." replied the Spy with a small smirk as he dried up a few plates the Scout had just washed. "Where do I put...?"

"Uh? Oh. Secon' drawer on your right." The young adult watched the older one put away the plates before asking something that popped up in his head. "What about your mask, frenchy? Ain't she askin' questions 'bout that?"

"I explained to her that I used to be a spy for the French government during the second World War. I am now retired from this dangerous life and I have moved here for protection. However, I still keep this spy mask on me, in remembrance of my fallen companions during my spy years."

Nathan tried very hard not to look impressed. Not only did this lie sound real, it also made his nemesis look mysterious, adventurous and caring. This only made the Scout a bit more frustrated. How many lies like this did he feed his poor ma? If he was this good at stretching the truth, he could make her believe whatever he was saying. For all Nathan knew, his mom could be thinking Richard was the next Jesus.

Cleaning the dishes could not have been longer. Most of the time, after that small conversation they had, it was simply awkward silence, broken once in a while by the sound of harsh scrubbing or the clanking noise of dishes being put away. And, as if this was not boring enough, Richard would send back a pan or a plate every 3 dishes or so, because he saw some microscopic spot on the far edge. When everything was finally cleaned and stored away, Nathan wiped his wet hands on his legs while Richard put away the cloth with a sigh.

"See? You should never refuse help when it is given to you, mon fils. You'd still be deep in work, with some dirty dishes as well, if it wasn't for me."

"Don't get used to it, Spy. In fact, if your sorry ass ain't out the front door by next week, I'll-"

"Kill me?" interrupted Richard with a grin. Nathan bit his lower lip again. During his interview for his job, he was given a bunch of papers with a whole bunch of different rules he'd have to follow if he didn't want to lose his job or worse. He was forced to read and reread them, until he got them all by heart. And it's one of those rules, one that he still couldn't understand why it was there, that was protecting this RED rat.

_You will not harm any members of the other team when off of work hours, by any means (physically, mentally, or materialistically). __**FAILING TO DO SO WILL RESULT IN THE IMMEDIATE LOSS OF YOUR JOB, AND THE LAW WILL BE INFORMED OF YOUR ACTIONS.**_

This was so stupid. If their entire job was to kill off the other team and to accomplish their work, why couldn't they do so now, when there was no Respawn Machine? It was rules like this that made Nathan wonder if his 'job' wasn't just some rich guy's idea of an entertaining game. But heck, with the pay checks he was getting, he wasn't complaining much.

"I'll kick ya out myself" finished the Scout with a sour look on his face. This only made the Spy laugh as he put his gloves back on and reached for his own cigarette pack.

"I'd like to see you try. I'm sure you'd push little old _moi_ out the front door as good as you push carts out into holes." With those words, he turned and was about to leave the kitchen, if Nathan didn't call out to him.

"Look, I know what you're doin'. You're just here to embarrass and maybe even spy on me, probably 'cause I'm too darn perfect for your team and whatnot. But why are you doin' this to my poor ma? Why are you givin' her a false hope atta real relationship?"

The RED Spy froze in place, as if thinking for a few seconds, before turning his head back and looking at the BLU Scout. The corners of his mouth curled into a small smile.

"If I told you why, I don't think you'd believe me."

He then went out towards the front porch to meet up with Laura. Nathan grumbled to himself. Those 11 words rang in his head again and again as he pulled out the sink plug and watched the dirty, soapy water go down the drain.

_Richard._

He scoffed one last time before leaving the kitchen as well.


	3. Chapter 3

A beautiful Tuesday morning sun slowly rose over the Boston neighbourhood, taking its time to fully illuminate the streets and the yards of the sleepy residents. Nearby restaurants were opening up, displaying in big their choices of coffees and breakfast dishes, and the morning news had just started on the TV and the radio, talking about what was currently happening around the world before talking about the beautiful weather the city was going to have this week.

Like every morning, a large ray of light passed through a curtain-less window, shining brightly over the Scout's face, almost immediately waking him up from his slumber. The boy groaned and slowly rolled over in his bed, barely covered by their sheets, to stare at his ticking alarm clock. 6:28 AM. As usual, the daylight had woken him up a few minutes before his alarm clock. He began to wonder why he even kept the damn thing.

He slowly rose from his bed, wearing nothing but his boxer shorts, and yawned, scratching his stomach as he looked around his room. The floor was cluttered with clothes and some dirty dishes that he forgot to pick up the other day. Posters of famous baseball players like Babe Ruth and Jackie Robinson were plastered over the walls, in their famous uniforms. Other than that were the basics for a bedroom; a few clothes drawers and a wardrobe, with more hangers than clothes in there. There was a small TV placed on a tall bed table at the foot of the bed, where he'd watch cheesy sci-fi movies (like "Attack of the living goo!") and Big League games at night, before going to bed. He remembered how he told his ma that he won the TV in some made up lottery. It was less hassle than telling her he bought it.

After all, he wasn't supposed to make more than a doctor's pay. Not with the small construction job he was supposed to have.

Lazily, he grabbed a clean pair of boxers and went towards the bathroom, while still wearing nothing but his old boxers. After taking his morning shower and feeling refreshed and awaken, he walked to his room, drying himself off with a towel he then threw into his dirty clothes pile, before grabbing some clothes that looked decently clean and quickly putting them on. He had a hunch that today was going to be different. Heck, him and the other mercs were even scheduled to do some intel stealing this morning, and that was his favorite. He even began to wonder why he had gone to bed bitter last night, when the answer to that question came to him as a male voice with a distinct accent being heard from down the stairs.

Oh, right.

_Richard._

Rolling his eyes, he slowly stepped out of his room and down the stairs, walking into the kitchen. His ma was by the oven, happily cooking bacon and eggs for her two men. She seemed quite happy this morning, which was twice as odd, because she usually slept until 9 o'clock and is grumpy until at least 10, and those were on her good days.

And then, there he was, sitting at the table, his face hidden between two pages of the daily newspaper while a warm coffee was sitting on the table before him.

"Good morning, _mom fils_." the Spy told Nathan without looking away from his paper. "Had a good sleep?"

Nathan groaned and refused to answer. He grabbed two pieces of bread and stuck them in the toaster.

"I, for one, had a night _absolument magnifique_. I hope me and your mother didn't make too much noise..." he chuckles a bit.

"Richard! You don't need to talk about that at the table!" Laura replied with a blush, which only made Richard laugh some more, and increased Nathan's sudden desire to use the butcher's knife for something other than food. His poor ma was being seduced and fooled by this bastard, and there was nothing he could do about it. It was driving him nuts. He remembered the last words Richard told him last night.

_If I told you why, I don't think you'd believe me._

He was going to find out what that prick was planning, some way or another. In the meantime, he had to patiently wait until work started to give Richard the beating he deserved.

"Nathan, honey, sit down at the table, I've made you two breakfast before you head to work." the mom beamed as she scooped up the eggs and placed them on two plates, next to the bacon. Richard folded up the newspaper and put it away as his plate was placed in front of him. He still had that mask on. Nathan wondered if he slept with the damn thing on his face.

"It smells delicious, Laura, but you didn't need to go through so much trouble for us...I could've cooked." the Spy stated as he gently grabbed her hand before it could move away, giving the back of it a soft kiss.

"Oh, nonsense! I'm more than happy to make breakfast for you, Richard!" she giggled with a blush. Nathan tried not to puke into his plate.

"Alright, you boys enjoy your breakfast, I'm going out for my smoke. And Nathan, for Pete's sake, you have this big spot on your shirt! Go put on something clean!" she scolded in a sweet manner as she placed down a cup of coffee for her son before grabbing her cigarettes and leaving for the front porch. Nathan watched her leave. He had always hated his ma's smoking habit. Thank God him and his brothers had managed to get her from 4 packs a day to 2 cigarettes a day. It hadn't been easy, but at the very least, now she'll be able to live past 50.

"So...it seems like we're going to be adding another day to our winning streak, don't you think so, Nathan?" the Spy taunted with a small laugh, while he brought a piece of egg to his mouth.

"Yeah, not today, Frenchy. I got this feelin' we gonna win. I'm an expert at intel stealin'." Nathan replied while boosting up his chest a bit.

"Oh, you mean like that time you tripped down our stairs while trying to flee our Heavy?" cackled Richard, while trying not to choke on his breakfast.

"T'was an accident!" snapped Nathan, which only made the Spy laugh harder. It happened a few months ago, in an area called "Turbine". A tough and challenging battle for both team, with both of them having captured the other's intel twice. There were three paths to the intel room: a corridor on the left, which was protected by a sentry; another corridor on the right, but it passed right in front of the RED spawn room, making it awfully dangerous; and finally, a ventilation shaft large enough for one person to walk in, which was sometimes crawling with members of both teams. Since that shaft seemed like the safest route, the Scout quickly crawled inside, praying no REDs would follow him in or, worse, come in from the opposite direction. He was lucky that time, and he dropped into the intel room without anyone noticing him. He quickly grabbed the briefcase, setting of the RED team's alarm, chuckling to himself at how easy this had been, before realizing he didn't think his plan all the way through: the ventilation shaft was now too high for him to escape in, and one of the path had a sentry that fills anything looking even remotely blue with bullets. He would have to brave the corridor near the spawn room before the enemy team storms the area and corners him.

So, he quickly climbed up the pair of stairs leading to the enemy spawn, passing by it just as the RED Heavy walked out, his minigun whirring almost as loudly as the angry battle cry of its owner. A hail of high caliber bullets whizzed past the Scout's body, some hitting him in the back, but he didn't stop, not for a second. Doing that would mean another use of the Respawn machine, and, even though he knew he'd come out unharmed, it wasn't pleasant to die.

As he had reached the other flight of stairs, this one going down into the big turbine room, he saw that the slide door down those stairs was open. Someone was either coming in, or going out. Nathan saw this as his chance and focused all of the energy left in his half dead body into getting down those steps before that door could close. Now, what happened next is anyone's guess. Some say that one of the RED Heavy's bullets hit the young boy in the leg at the wrong time. Others, like Nathan himself, claimed it was because one of those shoelaces came undone, and he carelessly stepped on it. More claim it was simply because the Scout missed a step. Whichever the reason, Nathan landed face first into the metal stairs, barely a second after he began to descend, before tumbling down all the way, snapping his neck at the bottom and making the RED intelligence slide into the turbine room.

The BLU team had won that day. Their Pyro had walked over and picked up the intel with little trouble. The RED team couldn't defend it properly because they were laughing too hard.

And for weeks after this battle, Nathan had gained the nickname "Trippy". Everyone called him that, including his own team. And, by God, no one wasted an opportunity to call him that. "Trippy, protect the point!" "Dominated, Trippy!" "There's a spy disguised as Trippy!" They only stopped calling him that when Nathan proved his worth, a few weeks after the accident, by ending a day with 3 dominations and by pretty much carrying his team to victory.

"Yeah, you can laugh all you want, you ain't gonna win today. You won't even see me comin'." the Scout replied as he got up, grabbing the two toasts that had just popped out. He brought them over to his plate, placed his bacon and eggs over one of the toasts, and putting the other one on top. A quick breakfast sandwich that the Heavy would drool over. He took the sandwich and headed for the front door.

"You're not taking any of your mother's coffee?" Richard questioned with a small raised brow, pointing at the warm mug Laura placed down for Nathan.

"B'tween you 'n me, she makes terrible coffee." Nathan replied with a small shrug as he took a bite of his sandwich.

"I'm afraid you're too late to warn me of that." said Richard with a small, slightly disgusted frown down at his mug.

Nathan took another bite of his lightly greasy breakfast, went out the front door and, after saying bye to his ma, went towards the bus station. His ma was no master chef...but these eggs and this bacon were both delicious, or, at least, better than usual. Maybe she found out how to properly cook them on TV? Or she got tips off of one of her cook books?

He finished up his breakfast and pulled out his earphones, placing them over his ears. His ma's new cooking skill and happy attitude had to be easily explainable.

He refused to believe that this was because of the Spy.


	4. Chapter 4

"Gentlemen! Mission begins in 10 minutes, and I hope, for your sakes, that you _do not fail me again._"

As soon as this message from the Administrator was over, the BLU team ended their idle chit chat and left the employee room to walk towards the changing room, all eager to get going. While going to the locker room, Nathan was usually in the middle of the group, playfully bad mouthing his companions and taking his sweet time.

Today, he was the first getting dressed.

"Let's go, let's go, let's go!" he impatiently told his teammates as he took off his casual clothes, tossing them aside and grabbing his uniform. The others, surprised at his sudden enthusiasm, stood stunned for a second before going in and getting dressed as usual.

Nathan grabbed his clean jogging pants, his used pair of running shoes, and a comfortable t-shirt, donned with the colour of his team. He put them all on as he watched the others put on their uniform. God, they were so slow! Maybe if they hurried up a bit more, they could start the damn battle already. Then, Nathan could go Spy hunting...

Turning back to his locker, the young adult slowly pulled out his dogtags. Well, not exactly his dogtags. The Scout examined the chain and the tags silently, turning them around in his fingers and staring at the name engraved on them. They used to belong to Arthur Scott, his ma's first boyfriend and husband, and, according to the oldest brothers, the best one of the bunch. The one that actually gave a shit about his ma. He married his ma, got Allan and Daniel, the two eldest, on this Earth, and everyone was quite happy. Then, World War 2 came around, and Arthur was forced to enlist. He promised his wife and two children that he'd come back, smiling and victorious.

He didn't.

A tall man from the Army came to the door one day, handing his ma these dogtags and simply saying "I'm sorry." No big speech. No beating around the bush. Just those two words. Daniel claims that their ma had been crying and feeling miserable for almost a year, and that this loss affected her emotional state. She tried looking for love too quickly, and this, unfortunately, is an easy target for assholes with no morals who are simply looking to get laid.

Nathan's biological father was one of those assholes. He was a fat sack of shit that never seemed to be sober. The only person in the house who liked him was Laura, and that was because she always saw the good in people. Nathan learned from his siblings that this abusive dick left the house after coming home drunk and almost beating Laura and a few of the brothers to death when Nathan had been one year old. The Scout had used his one favour with TF industries to find this jerk. To this day, he still found it amazing how much blood can be spilled and splattered around when beating someone with a baseball bat in a hotel room.

Nathan placed the dogtags around his neck before putting on his headpiece and helmet. He didn't know why the Scout in RED wore dogtags too (probably because he's a copycat), but to Nathan, those tags around his neck was like his lucky charm. He never fought without them.

"Mission begins in 5 minutes." said the strict female voice over the intercom. Nathan looked around, and sighed as he saw that, once again, he was the first ready. Well, first after the Pyro, but he didn't count, seeing as how he came and left work in his full body suit. So, as usual, he decided to go and chat with the Engineer. The two of them had became pretty good friends, mainly because Nathan thinks of the Texan as the only other somewhat sane person in the entire team. Next to himself, of course.

"Hey hard hat." he said as he sat down next to the Engy, who was putting on his kneepads.

"G'morning, string bean." came the reply, in it's traditional southern accent, followed by a friendly handshake. "How are you?"

"I'm...doin' good, ya know, nothin' new." Nathan decided against telling his teammate about Richard...but he was still curious about what he would think about it. "Say, overalls...you got a family, right?"

"Yup. Here, ah got a picture of 'em. I always keep it around on me." He grinned as he reached into his overalls pocket, pulling out a small picture. Nathan stared at the photograph, watching the smiling face of the Engy, his traditional hard hat and goggles replaced by a simple, white cowboy hat. Next to him was a smaller woman with dark red hair and plump red lips, grinning as her arms held close to her husband. Under them, and in the center, was a cute young girl, who couldn't be older than 4 years old, with the same coloured hair as her mom and the same blue eyes as her father, staring at the camera with the young innocence that only someone her age could have.

"Nice family you got there, Engy. Your wife's fine with you workin' here?" Nathan wondered if he was the only one who had to hide this job from loved ones.

"Yup, she got no problem. Well, none anymore, anyways. Used to worry that the Respawn machine would fail one day, but after ah showed her all the different safeguards and backups that machine's got, she was fine with it. She even encourages me to blast a bunch of REDs sometimes."

Nathan nodded. Maybe he could do the same with his ma one day. Of course, he'd make sure to invite all his brothers as well, so he could finally make them shut up about his "shitty construction job" and show them once and for all that he had the coolest job. Remembering why he brought up the subject of his family, Nathan asked "Hey, hard hat...mind answerin' a question for me?"

"Shoot."

"Well...let's say that one of those RED guys gets this idea in their dumb head to come live near ya and your family...whatta you think abou' that?"

The Texan seemed to think about it for a second, scratching his head. "Well...ah don't know...guess it would depend on who it was...what they'd want...and how close they'd get to mah family."

"Well, let's say it's...oh, I dunno...that spy, for example...you'd...have no clue what he wants...and he became your wife's bo-...buddy." The Scout was hoping he sounded as casual as he could, but his friend still chuckled as he pulled out his work goggles.

"That sounds awfully specific, Scout. Do ya got something to tell me?"

"What? Nah, man...just...ya know, curious, is all. Saw that idea in...in a movie recently."

"Hm...well...," the Engy said, rubbing his chin in thought, "I guess ah'd keep an eye on the sneaky bastard, make sure he ain't up to no good...but heck, if he ain't, ah wouldn't worry too much about 'im...we could even become friends outside the battlefield."

The Scout couldn't believe his ears. "What? Really? But ya keep sayin' he's an annoying prick that keeps zappin' all your stuff..."

"Yeah, but that's durin' work hours. You were talkin' about off work, right? B'sides, ah wouldn't be the first with a friend in RED. Take helmet head, over there..." he points towards the Soldier, who was currently loudly ordering an annoyed Sniper that he better see heads exploding today, or God help him. "Well, would you believe him and the RED Demoman are best buds? Ah swear to God it's true!" he added, seeing Nathan's surprised face. "They spend all their weekends together, hanging out. Just don't tell _you know who_." He casually points his thumb towards the loudspeakers, hanging from a corner in the ceiling. "She tried to break 'em up a few years ago, but all that did was strengthen their friendship. The two still pretend to hate each other's faces, and she buys it."

The Scout and the Engineer stared back at the Soldier, who was now ordering the Pyro that he better be smelling burning flesh all day, ignoring the fact that the Pyro was aiming his flamethrower at the Soldier and was literally a twitch of a finger away from setting him ablaze. Nathan had one last question.

"And...what would ya do if that spy began flirtin' with your wife?"

As an answer, the Texan pulled out his shotgun and cocked it, making Nathan laugh. His laugh was interrupted by the Administrator's voice declaring "Mission begins in 60 seconds."

"Oh! Better grab your weapons, string bean. G'luck to you!" The Engy said with a chuckle, putting his orange safety helmet on his head.

"Yeah, good luck to ya too!" Nathan said, getting up and heading for his locker, only to be stopped by the Soldier.

"And you! You better not screw us over like yesterday! I want the enemy's intel in our base so fast, I won't even see it! Understood?" He commanded loudly.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever" grunted the Scout, grabbing his trusty Scattergun, his pistol, and his metal bat before lining up and entering the teleporter that would bring him into 2fort's spawn room.

It was finally time to find and kill Richard.


End file.
